The blog of a survivor of many things, a cult religion, illness, childhood sexual abuse and more.

Thursday, December 08, 2016

Hillbilly Heroin

I know one thing about myself that's been reinforced over the last 24 hours. I could never be an oxycontin or opiod addict. Never, ever.!

Years ago when I was on Vicodin for months on end while my orthopedic doctor and insurance company wrangled over my carpal tunnel problems. During my months on it I dutifully took it, took stomach meds and antihistamines to deal with the side effects while I went through the months of physical therapy before and after surgery. Concluded then, based on my experiences, Jim's hatred of taking opiods and all the crazy shenanigans I witnessed during my years at the clinic by opiod seekers that those that become addicted must have something wired differently in their brains. Sort of like how I love cilantro in my food and Jim says it tastes like soap to him. Something that makes some people susceptible to craving opiods and the rest going 'Yuck! Tastes like soap and puke!'

HATE the way that shit makes me feel! I know there are folks out there that crave that hideous numbness of emotion and pain, but it's just something I do not like at all. Add in the nausea, the random puking, dizziness and junkie itch and there's even less reason to take it.

Used to be I only got the junkie itch and numbness, now I struggle to keep down food and stand or sit upright. After a night of up and down throwing up, down and sideways I'm contemplating trying to sleep without it, flayed open nose with nasal mask or not. Has to be better than having my stomach trying to exit my mouth every single time Jim turns over in the bed all night long.

It's going to be either pain or puking. What a freaking choice. At this point I think I would prefer the pain.

I had pill hangover still till afternoon. Jim and I went out for Chinese food for lunch and I could not eat more than a few mouthfuls before starting to gag. But I took it home and managed to eat it after the dry heaves wore off. Score! I didn't have to cook dinner.

Oddly enough when I popped up online this morning to update No Longer Quivering someone pm'ed me on Facebook that I didn't know and.. drum roll please... tried to sell me some weed. Insert huge laughing smiley here! It's still illegal! And this chump is hawking it via Facebook messenger! I was amused but blocked him immediately.

Had a tiny bit of fun with the Maw In Law earlier. She wanted to know what I was buying with the big check she sent me. I told her I was buying a gold plated Siamese cat. I hope hostile Sis in Law picked up that I'm joking though, or I might find this hurled against me at some point in the future during her endless recitation of my crimes.

I'm thinking about using the money to fly down to see my mother and take her to South Florida for a wee vacation. I need the ocean badly again. My health would straighten out quickly if I could just swim in the ocean.

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Hallelujah Anyway...

I used to be a sold-out Charismaniac Christian sipping my Jesus Juice while shouting Hallelujah. Now I'm not so sure any longer. Whatever deity exists must look down at our shenanigans in her/his name and weeps. I'm just trying to do the best I can without flubbing up all of the time.